Reality, The Oppressor's Tongue.

I Am The Androgyne, I Am The Living Mind You Fail To Describe In Your Dead Language The Lost Noun, The Verb Surviving Only In The Infinitive The Letters Of My Name Are Written Under The Lids Of The Newborn Child

I Touch You Knowing We Weren't Born Tomorrow, And Somehow, Each Of Us Will Help The Other Live, And Somewhere, Each Of Us Must Help The Other Die.

The Ocean, Whose Tides Respond, Like Women's Menses, To The Pull Of The Moon, The Ocean Which Corresponds To The Amniotic Fluid In Which Human Life Begins, The Ocean On Whose Surface Vessels (personified As Female) Can Ride But In Whose Depth Sailors Meet Their Death And Monsters Conceal Themselves... It Is Unstable And Threatening As The Earth Is Not; It Spawns New Life Daily, Yet Swallows Up Lives; It Is Changeable Like The Moon, Unregulated, Yet Indestructible And Eternal.

The Dialectic Between Change And Continuity Is A Painful But Deeply Instructive One, In Personal Life As In The Life Of A People.to "see The Light" Too Often Has Meant Rejecting The Treasures Found In Darkness.

The Moment When A Feeling Enters The Body/ Is Political. This Touch Is Political